


Just a Taste

by SPowell



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Virgin!Arthur, businessman!Merlin, intern!Arthur, older!Merlin, younger!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is sorely tempted by his intern, the CEO's young son who seems intent on getting Merlin to give him what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's Merlin_Writers May theme: Age Difference.  
> prompt from awyvern: Merlin/Arthur, boss/intern.
> 
> Warning: Not dub-con, but slightly rough sex with a virgin. You've been warned.

Merlin tries to look away from the boy getting coffee in the corner of the board room, but it’s really difficult. Arthur Pendragon, blond, blue-eyed son of the CEO, only eighteen and the hottest thing Merlin’s ever laid eyes on, wears a tight pair of jeans and a white Oxford shirt; and Merlin keeps imagining what the kid would look like in just the shirt—hanging open, that pert arse bare above those long legs. What Merlin can’t decide is if he’d prefer those legs wrapped around him and access to the luscious, pouty lips; or if he’d rather have Arthur turned over his desk, bottom in the air…

“Mr. Emrys, do you agree?”

Merlin jolts out of his fantasy to find Uther Pendragon staring at him with steely grey eyes.

Merlin clears his throat. “Sorry, sir. What was that?”

“I know you’re only here for the summer, Mr. Emrys, but do you think you can manage to keep your mind on task?” Uther turns to a board member, and Merlin sneaks a look at Arthur. The kid hasn’t stopped torturing Merlin since the day Uther thought it would be a good idea for his son to do an internship at the company, working solely with Merlin.

Arthur appears innocent enough when he approaches the large mahogany table with the coffee, handing one cup to Merlin with a tiny smirk and the other to his father; but Merlin knows better. Every time Arthur comes into Merlin’s office, he finds some reason to bend over right in front of him. Merlin’s clearly seen the invitation in Arthur’s eyes, but the boy’s only eighteen, for Christ’s sake, and Merlin’s almost thirty-years-old; Merlin can’t possibly go there.

Merlin just has to make it through this summer and then he’ll be away from temptation.

 

“Why the hell don’t you just do it?” Will asks one night after Merlin’s had a particularly grueling time with Arthur making innuendos all day on top of being a little prat who won’t do his job the way Merlin tells him to. "Just a taste won't hurt."

Merlin’s been venting over a beer for the past half hour and looks up at his best mate, a question in his eyes.

“You don’t technically work for Pendragon, after all,” Will reminds him. “You’re only on loan for the summer. And the kid’s of age. _I’d_ do it.”

“That’s one excellent reason right there for me _not_ to do it,” Merlin tells him, and Will makes a face.

“Yeah, because you wouldn’t want to have any _real fun_ now, would you?” Will drinks the rest of his beer and chucks the bottle across the room into the trash bin.

“Will, it would be wrong of me to take advantage of a kid like that!”

“Who’s taking advantage?” Will asks. “From what you’ve told me, he wants it, and wants it bad. Believe me, if you leave here in a few weeks without banging that fine arse over your desk, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days, mate.”

The shitty thing is, Will is probably right; but it takes another twenty glimpses at Arthur’s lean midsection as he reaches across Merlin for a pencil, and another dozen shots of Arthur bent over in front of Merlin for Merlin to get that.

“Arthur, can you stay late with me tonight to get some of this paperwork cleaned up?” Merlin asks before he can change his mind.

Arthur’s eyes flicker, a small smile playing about his mouth. “Sure. I’d be more than happy to.” He walks away, and Merlin can’t take his eyes off that arse.

At seven o’clock Arthur saunters in with two bags of takeout. He’s changed into a clean, very tight, T-shirt with some band on the front that Merlin frankly doesn’t recognize, which undoubtedly means he’s getting old.

Hours ago, Merlin took off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his blue dress shirt, and now he lounges in his leather chair watching as Arthur sets the food on the table near the couch.

“Figured you wouldn’t have eaten,” Arthur says, glancing at Merlin from under blond fringe. “Why don’t you take off your tie and get comfortable? Don’t you ever keep any casual clothes here?”

Merlin shakes his head. Reaching up, he tugs the tie around his throat, pulling it loose, undoing his collar and then several more buttons down to his chest. Arthur’s eyes follow the movements, and Merlin sees a muscle twitch in his jaw—a jaw that will one day be hard as cut glass but now still retains the softness of a childhood just left behind.

Merlin gets up out of his chair and clears the desk off a bit before wandering over to sit beside Arthur, just a tad closer than he normally would. Arthur seems to have lost much of the bravado he’s displayed the past several weeks, watching Merlin bite into his sandwich.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Merlin asks, eyes on Arthur’s pretty mouth. Because it is pretty--red, pouty, and inviting.

“Oh. Yeah.” Arthur reaches for the other sandwich, having to lean over Merlin, who doesn’t move an inch, in the process. A bit of the sauce from the bacon buttie dribbles onto Arthur’s jeans when he opens the wrap, and Arthur wipes it up with a finger.

Merlin catches Arthur by the hand. “What’s this sauce?”

“I order it special…a bit of mayo and soy,” Arthur answers, staring at the finger caught in Merlin’s grip.

Without breaking eye contact, Merlin brings Arthur’s finger to his own lips. “Sounds good. Do you mind?” He raises a brow.

Arthur shakes his head, watching as Merlin slides Arthur’s finger between his lips, sucking on it greedily, tongue running over and around the digit.

The sound that comes out of Arthur’s mouth makes Merlin’s cock twitch.

“Fuck,” Arthur says on a breath.

“Yes, fuck,” Merlin agrees, meeting Arthur’s gaze.

Arthur bites his lip.

“That is what you’ve been pushing for, isn’t it Arthur?” Merlin asks quietly. “Or have I read things wrong?”

The room seems terribly quiet for the next few seconds. Merlin knows that now’s the time when Arthur will either step up or run. His heartbeat picks up as Arthur gives him a confident look.

“You haven’t read me wrong.”

Well, then. Merlin smiles and leans in, tasting Arthur’s lips for the first time.

The boy seems mesmerizingly innocent; his hair silky soft between Merlin’s fingers, and his mouth a warm, wet wonderland for Merlin to explore.

“God, I’m so hard right now,” Arthur groans, pressing his hand to his crotch.

“Tell me what you want, Arthur,” Merlin says eagerly.

Tentatively, Arthur reaches over and touches Merlin’s lap. “You’re hard, too.” His fingers run over the length of Merlin’s confined cock, and Merlin sucks his breath between his teeth.

“Damn right. I have been for weeks now, watching you twitch that arse in my face.”

Arthur colours but lifts his chin up high. “I haven’t…”

“You have so,” Merlin cuts him off. Leaning in, he places a kiss to Arthur’s temple before moving down the side of Arthur’s face to focus on the tender skin below Arthur's ear.

“Are you the little cockslut you make yourself out to be, Arthur?” Merlin asks, giving the soft flesh of Arthur’s earlobe a bite. He hears Arthur swallow. “What in the world would _Daddy_ say?”

Arthur’s hands come up to grip Merlin’s forearms. “You’re right; I want it. Nobody’s here…not on the whole floor; I checked. I paid the security guard to turn off the cameras for the next hour.”

Merlin’s eyes widen. He stands, cock throbbing in his pants, and pulls Arthur to his feet, the sandwiches falling to the floor.

“Pants off and over the desk,” he orders, unbuttoning his own shirt. “In fact, get rid of the T-shirt, too.”

Arthur quickly obeys, and when he stands nude before Merlin, Merlin’s eyes give a long sweep over the young, proud body before he says, “Go on, bend over my desk.”

Arthur turns, and Merlin takes a moment to appreciate the soft curve from back to buttocks before Arthur drapes himself wantonly over the piece of furniture. Merlin’s hands shake getting his flies open and his trousers down.

Arthur looks over his shoulder. “ _Fuck_ , you’re big!”

Merlin can’t help but smirk a little. “Think you can take me?” He reaches over and spreads Arthur’s cheeks wide and stares at the small, pink, tantalizing furl.

“Arthur…” he looks at the boy splayed over Merlin’s desk like a whore, yet so obviously _not_ one. “Haven’t you ever…?”

“Shut up and fuck me!” Arthur demands. “I said I wanted it, didn’t I? You don’t have to write me a poem before doing it!” He bows his head into his hands. “Let’s go.”

It’s very tempting to do just that, but Merlin isn’t a brute. And besides, the sight in front of him is very tempting. Crouching, Merlin presses his lips to the tiny opening, swirling his tongue over it. Arthur almost jumps off the desk.

“Oh…shit! What are you…?” Arthur wiggles as Merlin licks and suckles him, strangled cries soon turning into pleading whimpers.

Merlin slaps at Arthur’s buttocks before standing. “At least now it’s winking at me.” He thumbs the quivering hole slick with his spit.

Arthur lies panting and moaning low in his throat, the picture of debauched innocence as he peers out from under his arm at Merlin. Merlin has never been so hard, and thinks perhaps this was a brilliant idea after all.

Reaching for the drawer, Merlin gets out the bottle of lube and condom he’s secreted there.

“Bareback!” Arthur says, watching Merlin’s every move over his shoulder with intense blue eyes.

Merlin almost drops the bottle.

“That’s…really not smart.”

“I know that,” Arthur retorts irritably before his voice softens. “I trust you…if you tell me you’re clean. _Please._ ” The last word’s a whisper.

“I’m clean, and you can trust me,” Merlin tells him. “But don’t you _ever_ trust anyone else just because they tell you so.” He throws the condom back in the drawer and, pouring some lubricant on his hand, presses the tip of his index finger against Arthur’s twitching hole, making Arthur dance on his toes.

“Oh, shit…God, Merlin, yes!” Arthur practically sobs. “Just fuck me! I don’t care if it hurts!”

“Ever heard the term _bossy bottom_?” Merlin asks, withdrawing his finger and replacing it with his cock; the hot, slick tightness taking his breath away. “In the dictionary your name’s… next to…the…term.” He lets out a breath, sliding in.

Arthur keens, the smooth expanse of his back breaking out in goose flesh as he arches it. Hands gripping the top edge of the desk, he pants and groans as Merlin pushes all the way to the hilt and stops.

“All right?” Merlin asks, voice tight. After a few seconds, Arthur nods jerkily.

Merlin looks down to where Arthur’s little hole stretches obscenely around him, a bit of lube oozing at the rim. With his thumb, Merlin rubs where their bodies join.

Arthur trembles all over, and Merlin takes a moment to look at their reflections in the glass of the office window. Merlin, shirt and tie in disarray, trousers about his knees; Arthur, gloriously naked and splayed over the dark wood of the desk, pert bum in the air with Merlin’s cock spearing him like a fish.

Taking hold of a bit of that silky blond hair, Merlin tugs Arthur’s head back and begins to pump into him. Arthur cries out again and again, seeking friction against the desk top. For such a proud, regal young man, Arthur certainly howls when being fucked, Merlin thinks, a little drunk on the sound.

“Fuck me,” Arthur begs, “harder, yes, that’s it… _harder!_ ”

Sweat pouring down his face, Merlin slides in and out, in and out, faster and faster until the desk makes thumping noises on the floor and Arthur yells, writhing on the smooth surface, papers flying everywhere.

When Merlin can’t stand up any longer, he falls back into his leather desk chair, pulling Arthur with him onto his lap, impaling him there. Arthur moans, grabbing the armrests as Merlin pivots his hips upward, fucking into him.

“Oh, Merlin…hell, yeah… _fuck_!”

Taking Arthur’s chin in hand and turning his head, Merlin kisses him, open-mouthed and filthy, but softly, too, and Arthur leans into it, making soft noises that tug a bit at Merlin’s heart.

Merlin reaches around and grabs Arthur’s bobbing cock, tugging at it until Arthur jerks in his lap, head lolling back on Merlin’s shoulder. And then Merlin’s coming, filling Arthur with his release.

A couple of quiet minutes go by with only the sound of their heavy breathing in the room before Arthur pulls up and off Merlin, wincing as their bodies part. He grabs up his clothes and begins putting them on.

Merlin isn’t sure what to say; everything he comes up with seems trite at the moment. As the sexual high wears off, he begins to feel like a heel. Sure, Arthur wanted it, but Merlin’s the older adult and he shouldn’t have gone along with it.

“Arthur,” he begins, and Arthur zips his jeans and looks at him, face a mask.

“That was great. Thanks, Merlin.” Arthur holds his head up high.

“Uh. Okay, well, I hope it really was good for you…I mean, I was a little rough, and it was obviously your first time, and maybe I...”

Arthur looks away. “Don’t say it was a mistake.” He turns for the door. “I—I won’t be here the rest of the week. I’ll see you next week.”

He leaves before Merlin can even tell him he won’t be here next week. His summer at Pendragon is over.

 

Three weeks pass, and Merlin settles back into his regular job, taking what he’s learned at Pendragon and implementing it at Chesterfield, Inc. He doesn’t forget Arthur—the boy’s always at the back of his mind, but by the time he arrived home the evening he’d nailed Arthur over his desk, Merlin already felt more like punching Will than thanking him for his encouragement. _Just a taste,_ indeed. Now Merlin's sunk his teeth into the apple, he wants to consume it...core and all.

And something about the whole thing, hot as it was, has left Merlin hollow inside.

The way it ended…but how else could something like that end?

On a windy night, rain pelting against the windows, the last person Merlin expects to find on his doorstep upon answering a knock is Arthur Pendragon.

“Can I come in?” Arthur asks, face pinched. He’s shivering and without a jacket, blond hair plastered to his face.

“Of course,” Merlin moves aside.

Percy, who’s sitting on Merlin’s couch watching the telly, takes one look at Arthur and raises a brow.

“Here, Arthur, follow me and I’ll get you a towel.” Merlin heads down the hall. “What are you doing out without a proper raincoat?” Thunder rocks the foundation of the house, and he thinks he hears Arthur sniff behind him, but when he turns, Arthur’s eyes are dry.

“Father threw me out.”

Merlin stops. “What?”

“I said my father threw me out of the house,” Arthur repeats.

“But, why?”

“I told him I’m gay.”

Merlin clamps his mouth shut. Without saying anything else, he goes straight for the linen closet and gets Arthur a towel.

“What made you come here?” Merlin asks. “How did you even know where I live?”

“Great. Are you going to throw me out?” Arthur roughly runs the towel through his hair before tossing it away. “You fuck me over your desk and you’re through with me. Won’t even give me a place to sleep when I’m out on the street, will you? Fine. Whatever.” Arthur turns on his heel and starts for the front door.

Merlin gets a glimpse of Percy’s horrified expression as he quickly follows Arthur.

“Stop, Arthur! Of course you can stay here! I only asked why me…I mean, I would think you’d go to a friend’s house.”

“I don’t have any friends,” Arthur says, stopping in the foyer and looking at the wall. “I don’t have anyone. Just Father. Can I stay here tonight or not?” His jaw tightens.

“Um. Sure. The guest room’s through there.” Merlin shows Arthur the way, leaving him some dry clothes and another towel. “Take a hot shower if you like.”

Merlin goes to sit with Percy.

“What in the world?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Merlin says.

“You fucked that kid over your _desk_?”

“Oh, you heard that part, did you?”

“Oh, my God.”

“Okay, Perce, not my most shining moment, I admit.” Merlin squirms a bit, running a hand over his face. It’s scruffy; he needs a shave.

Percy gets up. “Well, I think I’ll get going. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

Merlin lets him go.

The following morning, Merlin tries to talk to Arthur about it, but Arthur won’t listen.

“Look, there’s nothing you can say to make me go back home,” Arthur finally tells him. “Father doesn’t want me there, anyway. I’ll find a job and somewhere else to stay and be out of your hair as soon as I can.”

“It isn’t a matter of getting you out of my hair,” Merlin insists. “Your father’s probably worried about you.”

“If you really think that, go ahead and call him,” Arthur replies, face devoid of emotion. “But I’m telling you now, you can save yourself the trouble.” He closes himself in the guest room. A moment later, loud music shakes the walls.

Merlin thinks a moment before picking up the phone and dialing Pendragon Industries. Uther isn’t in his office, so Merlin speaks to his secretary.

“I just want Mr. Pendragon to know that his son is all right and staying with me,” Merlin tells her. “Will you give him the message? And here’s my phone number. Please ask him to call me.”

When he hangs up, he feels marginally better, but when he doesn’t hear from Uther by mid-afternoon, he calls back.

“Mr. Pendragon got the message,” the secretary tells Merlin. “He tore it up. He asked me to tell you, if you were to call again, that you should turn Arthur out if that’s what you want to do. He doesn’t care.”

Merlin can’t believe it. Could Uther Pendragon be so cruel as to turn his back on his only son just because he doesn’t quite meet the criteria he’s set for him?

That night, Gwaine stops by with a pizza and some beer. When he sees Arthur come out of the kitchen, he says, “I didn’t know you had a twink, Merlin.”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “I don’t have a twink. This is Arthur. He’s staying with me for a while.”

“Hello, Arthur,” Gwaine says, looking Arthur over. “How old are you?”

“I’m nineteen,” Arthur answers. “May I?” he indicates the pizza, and when Gwaine nods, takes a piece.

“I thought you were eighteen,” Merlin says.

“My birthday was yesterday,” Arthur tells him around the slice of pizza. He flops down on the sofa and switches on the telly.

“Well, my name’s Gwaine.”

“Forget about it, Gwaine,” Merlin warns.

“I thought you said he isn’t your twink,” Gwaine pouts.

“Leave him alone,” Merlin tells him.

“You’re not any fun at all.” Gwaine moves to the other end of the couch.

Merlin sits beside Arthur. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

Arthur shrugs. “What for?”

Merlin thinks a moment, watching Gwaine consume three slices of pizza in quick succession.

“Wait a minute—your father kicked you out on your _birthday_?” Merlin asks Arthur incredulously.

Arthur snorts. “I told him I’m a poof. He was hardly going to put if off and throw me a party instead. Besides, Father’s idea of a birthday present is a good whore and a bottle of wine. And maybe a job as one of his underlings at the company, none of which I want. Especially not the whore, as it was sure to be a woman.” Finished with his pizza, he wipes his fingers on his jeans. Merlin tries not to stare at the long legs or remember how they looked splayed over his desk.

“Why did you go after me, Arthur?”

Arthur looks at Merlin out of the corner of his eye. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer,” Merlin says, voice low, although he’s sure Gwaine can still hear, pretend as he might to be watching the telly.

“I just liked the looks of you, that’s all. I was tired of being a virgin. Wanted to get it over with.”

Merlin winces. “That’s a terrible reason to lose your virginity over a desk to a bloke you hardly know.”

Gwaine looks over with raw interest, and Merlin widens his eyes meaningfully.

“Right. Going to the loo.” Gwaine gets up and leaves the room.

“I knew you were…a good person,” Arthur says grudgingly. “Okay? And that’s why I came here when Father kicked me out.” He turns on the couch. “Look, I appreciate you taking me in like this. I know I’m a pain, but I really will get a job. I’ve made some calls.”

“You’re not that much of a pain,” Merlin says, lips curling.

They’re silent a moment, and Merlin watches Arthur’s face, thinking about how strikingly handsome he’s sure to become in the next few years. When that happens, he won’t even think of looking at a bloke like Merlin.

“Why did you do it?” Arthur suddenly asks, surprising Merlin out of his thoughts.

“Do what?” Merlin has honestly forgotten what they’d been discussing.

Arthur gives him an impatient look. “Fuck me. Why did you do it? It was obviously against your noble principles.”

“Oh. Right, well—I guess I couldn’t help myself. You’re very tempting.”

Arthur’s deep blue eyes suddenly grow deeper. “I am?”

Merlin nods, eyes unwillingly focusing on those naturally rosy lips.

In the span of a heartbeat, Arthur is straddling Merlin, kissing the life out of him. Merlin’s hands automatically come up to grip Arthur’s back, holding on, loving the feel of his lean, young body hovering, the hardness in his jeans letting Merlin know he wants him. Merlin tugs on Arthur’s shirt and Arthur yanks it over his head, giving up the wide expanse of his smooth chest to Merlin’s lips and tongue.

“I think I’ll be going now,” Merlin vaguely hears Gwaine say from the hallway before the sound of the front door opening and closing forms a vague backdrop to the long moan Arthur lets out when Merlin’s mouth latches onto his right nipple.

Arthur arches his back, and Merlin clamps his hands onto Arthur’s arse, holding him still.

Merlin plays with the nub, tickling it with his tongue, and Arthur lets out a sob, hands running through Merlin’s hair before traveling down his back.

Merlin’s not sure how he manages it, but he stands, hefting Arthur over his shoulder, and carries him to the bedroom and Merlin’s bed, dumping him there before carefully removing his own clothing, watching Arthur watch him.

“You’re so fucking delicious, Arthur,” Merlin says, barely able to breathe, much less talk. “Take off those jeans.”

Arthur does, hands shaking. His cock is hard and leaking, and as soon as Merlin is naked, he slides the tempting shaft into his mouth.

Arthur cries out, and Merlin wonders if he’s ever had this done to him before. He loves the way Arthur smells, so boyish and sweaty. Merlin lets Arthur’s cock slip from his lips and moves down to nuzzle Arthur’s balls.

Arthur’s legs shake, and he grips the bedspread in his fists as Merlin takes Arthur’s sac into his mouth.

“Fuck, Merlin!” It’s a whine. Arthur is rapidly losing his cool, and Merlin loves it.

Merlin laps and licks a moment longer before going for the lube, his throbbing cock unwilling to wait. This time he curls Arthur up and fucks him face to face, kissing that pliant mouth as he pumps in and out, over and over. Slowly, Arthur comes undone, layer by layer until Merlin can see inside of him to the tender boy he tries to hide.

It’s at that pivotal moment that Merlin knows something will come of this. He’s not sure what, but something. As he stares deeply into Arthur’s eyes, arousal coiling into a tight ball at his centre, Merlin knows that Arthur Pendragon has something to offer him besides a sweet body and dry wit. Their souls seem to slide into place and connect, forming a thread that doesn’t break even when the tidal wave of pleasure hits them simultaneously, sending them both reeling into a surf of afterglow.

Arthur lowers his trembling legs, but Merlin remains connected.

Laying his cheek on Arthur’s sternum, he says simply, “Stay.”

And Arthur does.

 


End file.
